The Shy Duchess Part 3

"I don't know," she said. "I think-"

"Good afternoon, ladies!" someone called, interrupting her words. "Very pleasant weather we're having, are we not?"

Emily looked up to see Mr George Rayburn approaching on his horse. He had been the only suitor to really appear this Season, dancing with her at her first ball and being attentive since then. He sent flowers, fetched her lemonade at parties, things of that nature-if that could really be called a suitor. He had not made an offer, and her parents would have refused him anyway. His fortune was respectable enough, from all reports, but he had no t.i.tle.

Now, though, at the end of the Season, if he were to come forward, they might be more amenable. If Emily liked him, she could probably persuade them Mr Rayburn was a reasonable match.

He drew in his horse next to their carriage and tipped his hat, smiling down at them. She should like him, Emily thought as she smiled back at him. He was terribly handsome, with waving, glossy dark hair and hazel eyes, a strong jaw and straight nose. He was tall and lean, athletic, much admired. He read poetry, had travelled widely, had correct opinions and impeccable manners.

And he did seem to like her. He wasn't put off by her shyness or her lack of dancing skills. Why could she not really like him? Perhaps it was that way he had of looking at her.

But maybe she was wrong. Everyone else seemed charmed by him, even Jane. Her friend held out her hand to Mr Rayburn with a happy trill of laughter.

"Mr Rayburn! We have not seen you out and about this week," Jane said.

"I fear I had to attend some business on my estate that could not wait," he answered. He seemed to speak to Jane, but his gaze lingered on Emily. "I am sure I could not have been much missed in all the flurry of the end of the Season."

"Oh, but I vow you were!" Jane said. "There were not enough gentlemen to dance with at Lady Orman's, were there, Emily?"

Emily smiled, remembering how she herself had not danced at all, no matter how many men there were. "No, I suppose there weren't. No gentlemen who were good dancers, anyway."

Mr Rayburn arched his brow. "You think me a good dancer, Lady Emily?"

"You managed to avoid getting your foot stomped on when we danced, Mr Rayburn, and you prevented me from tripping more than once. To me, that makes you an expert."

"I am glad I impressed you with something, Lady Emily," he answered.

Jane glanced between the two of them, her head tilted as if she puzzled something out. "Shall we all walk for a bit? I feel in need of some exercise."

Emily nodded eagerly. Perhaps if they were walking, in the midst of the crowd, she could more easily avoid Mr Rayburn's steady hazel stare. He did always seem to watch her, expect something from her when she could not fathom what it was. She only knew it made her feel fidgety, uncomfortable-and not in the same way the Duke of Manning did.

They left the carriage and set out along one of the pedestrian pathways. Emily loved coming to the park in the mornings, when the walkways were spa.r.s.ely filled with nannies out with their charges and footmen walking the employers' dogs. She loved watching the children with their hoops and dolls, enjoying the light and fresh air, the freedom. It made her yearn for the day when she would have a child of her own to walk with in the park, to love and nurture. But the park was such a very different place late in the afternoon, when it was taken over by stylishly dressed society figures, intent on seeing and being seen.

A couple, laughing raucously together, brushed past, jostling Emily. She stumbled, and Mr Rayburn caught her arm in a hard grasp.

"Are you quite all right, Lady Emily?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Emily said. She tried to ease her arm away, but he held on, leading her along the pathway to a more open spot.

"It is shockingly crowded today," Jane declared, quite as if it wasn't exactly this crowded every day. "How fortunate we have you to protect us, Mr Rayburn."

"And how fortunate I am to escort two such lovely ladies. I'm the envy of every man here," Mr Rayburn answered with a charming smile. "Now, Miss Thornton, Lady Emily, perhaps you could tell me all I missed while I was sadly away from town. Was Lady Orman's as great a crush as everyone predicted?"

"Oh, even more so!" Jane said. "One could scarcely even move without being trod upon."

As her friend chattered on about the ball, Emily half-listened, her mind drifting away from the gossip, the crowded park, even from Mr Rayburn's clasp still on her arm. She thought of next week's planned lesson at Mrs G.o.ddard's, her favourite pupil Sally who showed such promise and how well they were all progressing. They needed more challenging material in their lessons to keep up with them. Perhaps she could teach them a bit of Italian? Some of them might even be able to go for governesses soon.

She was so distracted by her plans she didn't notice the tree root in her path until she tripped right over it.

"Oh!" she cried, as pain shot through her thin half-boot and up her foot. Mr Rayburn's hand tightened on her arm, holding her upright yet again. "Thank you, Mr Rayburn. You are very kind."

"It is entirely my pleasure, Lady Emily," he said hoa.r.s.ely, staring into her eyes. "You do seem to need someone to look after you."

A sudden jolt of anger sizzled through her, and she finally shook her arm free of his touch. That was exactly what she did not want any longer, people always telling her where to go and what to do! "Looking after" always seemed to mean "telling what to do". She never got to do what she wanted, or to make up her own mind about anything.

"Thank you for your a.s.sistance, Mr Rayburn. I am very well now." Emily hurried ahead of Jane and Mr Rayburn, not knowing where she was going, only that she had to get away and shake free of that sudden, unaccountable anger. It made her feel ridiculously out of control.

She found herself near the Serpentine, its banks lined with yet more people, laughing, talking, seemingly so very pleasant and light-hearted. Underneath, though, Emily knew they were always watching, always- judging.

She walked on at a slower pace, making herself smile politely. Jane and Mr Rayburn followed her, still chattering together about that blasted ball.

In the distance, just at the edge of the clearing near the river, Emily glimpsed the Duke of Manning himself, seated on a white horse that contrasted dramatically with his well-cut dark blue coat and fine doeskin breeches. She stopped short, nearly tripping yet again as she stared in sudden dazzlement.

She just couldn't seem to help herself. It was as if all the light of the day gathered directly on him, and he was all s.h.i.+mmering gold.

She remembered myths of Apollo, called "Ever Bright" by the Muses, and she was sure this was what they meant. Despite the swirling crowds, he appeared to be alone in a glowing pool of serenity and light. He wore no hat, and his golden hair was windblown, falling over his brow and the collar of his fine coat. He held the reins lightly in one gloved hand, answering greetings with a faint smile on his face.

It was almost as if he was bemused to find himself in such a cacophonous scene.

"Whatever is Manning doing here?" she heard Mr Rayburn say behind her. "No one in his family ever deigns to come among the crowds here."

Emily could not blame him for that. If she was a d.u.c.h.ess, she would never do what she didn't want to, either. But why was he here? She had never seen him in the park before.

"Should we say h.e.l.lo to him?" Jane asked. She sounded uncharacteristically indecisive. Jane always seemed to know exactly what she should do.

"And stand in line with everyone else eager to pay court? I don't think so," Mr Rayburn said dismissively. He took Jane's arm and the two of them turned away. "I thought we were going to walk. Lady Emily?"

"Yes, of course," Emily said. She started to turn away, as well, to follow them back down the path. To her astonishment, though, the duke caught sight of her and smiled.

He tugged on his horse's reins and headed straight toward her.

"My goodness! The Duke of Manning is coming here," Jane cried.

"So he is," Mr Rayburn muttered. Emily looked back at him just in time to catch a glimpse of a frown on his face, before it was covered in his usual sociable, practised smile. It seemed perhaps he did not much care for the Duke of Manning.

Emily wondered if he knew something the rest of society did not. Otherwise she could not account for such a reaction. What could it be?

"I think-oh, my!" Jane said. "I think he means to talk to us."

And indeed he did. He reined in his horse right next to Emily and politely nodded to her, smiling. "Good afternoon, Lady Emily. I trust you have recovered from the dreadful crush of the Orman ball?" he said. His smile widened, more of a grin really, wide and white and full of gentle, teasing humour. As if they shared some secret, as if he remembered all too well when she slipped on the stairs and fell into his arms.

A hot blush touched her cheeks, and she ducked her head to try to hide under her bonnet's straw brim. "I am quite recovered, thank you, your Grace," she said with a curtsy. "Though I am definitely enjoying the fresh air today much more!"

He laughed, and s.h.i.+fted easily in his saddle, as if he was born on horseback. He looked so right there, Emily thought, comfortable and elegantly powerful, while she was terrified of the huge beasts.

Horses, of course-not dukes. Though she was also rather terrified of him, when he looked at her so intently, as if he was seeing her for the first time. It was a very different sort of terror than that she felt when Mr Lofton grabbed her in the garden, though. It was a temptation inside her own heart.

"I definitely agree with you on that, Lady Emily," he said. "A sunny day outdoors is much to be preferred."

Jane gave a delicate cough, and Emily suddenly recalled that she was not, in fact, alone at the park with the duke. "Your Grace, I believe you know my friends, Miss Thornton and Mr Rayburn?"

"Of course I do. How do you do, Miss Thornton, Mr Rayburn?" he said.

"Very well indeed, your Grace," Jane said cheerfully. "We were just going for a stroll. Perhaps you would care to join us?"

Emily shot Jane a hard glance, but Jane blithely ignored her. What if she said something foolish to him as he walked right beside her, or, heaven forbid, tripped and fell again?

"I would be happy to join you," he said. "If you are sure I would not be intruding on your confidences?"

"The path is rather narrow for four, your Grace," Mr Rayburn said in a hard voice.

Jane tugged sharply at his arm. "Nonsense! Every party is merrier with more, and there is plenty of room near the river. You and I shall just walk ahead, Mr Rayburn, and his Grace can walk with Lady Emily."

"Thank you for the invitation," the duke said. He dismounted and handed the reins over to his groom before offering Emily his arm. Jane had already fulfilled her promise-or threat-and led Mr Rayburn ahead. She tossed a triumphant smile back over her shoulder at Emily.

Emily had no choice. She slid her gloved fingers into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to walk beside her along the path. The other strollers watched them avidly as they went by, but she tried her hardest to ignore them. She watched the path under her feet, wary of every possible obstacle waiting to trip her.

The gossip she would just have to worry about later.

"I hope I am not interrupting important confidences between you and your friends, Lady Emily," he said quietly.

She glanced up at him, then wished she had not. His eyes really were terribly, terribly blue. "No, of course not, your Grace. Miss Thornton and I were able to confide on the way here. And Mr Rayburn is-well, he is not that sort of friend."

"Perhaps he is more of a suitor than a friend?" he said teasingly.

But Emily was not accustomed to being teased. She felt that blush flame even hotter. "I-no, of course not. I just-I... No."

"Forgive me, Lady Emily. I am so used to teasing my sisters and cousins about their admirers I sometimes forget how to behave in polite society."

His family-of course. What a prig he must think her after them. "Mr Rayburn does not admire me, your Grace."

"Does he not? Very foolish of him, I would say."

"I..." She hardly knew how to answer that. She could scarcely say she actually had no admirers to be teased about, by him or anyone! "How is your family, your Grace? I have not seen any of them since that house party at Welbourne Manor last summer."

"All disgustingly healthy, thank you. My sister Charlotte is expecting her first child very soon."

"Indeed?" Emily was astonished. She remembered Charlotte Fitzmanning, with her wild hair and untidy gowns, always with a pack of pug dogs at her heels. Emily knew she had married Andrew Ba.s.sington soon after that party, of course-and now she was to be a mother. She would have her very own family. Emily couldn't help but envy her for that.

"You must send her my best wishes, your Grace," she said. "Are you hoping for a niece or a nephew?"

"Either, as long as the child-and my sister-are healthy." He glanced towards the sun-dappled, blue-green river, where children sailed their toy boats and laughed in innocent delight. A shadow seemed to pa.s.s over his eyes, and he frowned.

"I am sure they will both be quite safe," Emily said softly. "Your sister did seem to have a most robust const.i.tution."

That strange shadow lifted from his face, and he laughed. "That she does. I already have one niece, little Katherine, my sister Justine's child. I am sure she would like a little girl for her playmate."

"I should like to have a niece, too," she said. She gestured toward a pretty, tiny redhead toddling by the water's edge as her nurse flirted with a footman nearby. The child waved her hands and laughed in sheer pleasure. "Perhaps one like that girl?"

"A fine choice, Lady Emily." He led her again along the path, closer to the river. "I do hope you are quite well after the ball? That fall you took..."

A group of children ran across the path in front of them, distracting her and making her laugh. "It was nothing at all, your Grace. I fear it could have been worse, though, if you had not been there to a.s.sist me."

"That is my task at b.a.l.l.s, to rescue fair maidens."

"You should not let that be known widely, then, or ladies would be fainting at your feet in droves in hopes of rescue."

He gave a startled laugh. "Why, Lady Emily! Was that a joke?"

Emily thought about it for a moment. "I think it might have been."

"A joke with an unfortunate grain of truth, I fear."

"You probably don't need to worry, your Grace. Most society ladies are not so clumsy as I am and could not fall if they tried."

"I am glad to hear it. I can't spend all my time saving fainting ladies. But I can't believe anyone could ever call you clumsy, Lady Emily."

"Oh, they could," she said with a sigh. "And I think-"

From the corner of her eye, Emily caught a glimpse of flas.h.i.+ng movement, dark and strange in the bright day. She spun around, and to her horror saw a runaway curricle barrelling down the roadway-and straight toward the red-haired child. The driver, a terrified-looking young man, had lost the reins. Pedestrians dived out of its wild path, shrieking, but the little girl was terribly oblivious.

"No!" Emily screamed. She ran towards the child, but her skirt hem wrapped around her ankles and tripped her.

The duke had no such constraints. He dashed past Emily, swift on his long, powerful legs, and dived for the child as the carriage crashed ever nearer. Everyone else ran the other way, but not him. He took a diving leap for the girl and caught her up in his arms a split second before the curricle would have run over her.

His momentum carried them both over the embankment and straight into the placid waters of the river.

Terrified, Emily lifted her wretched hems and dashed towards the river, along with everyone else. The carriage had finally ground to a halt some distance away, but she didn't notice. All she could see were the waves was.h.i.+ng over the spot where he had disappeared.

The duke leaped up, the girl held tightly against him. They were both completely soaked, but the child laughed delightedly in his arms as Nicholas sputtered for breath. A clump of weeds clung to his wet hair, now more green than gold with sludge.

To Emily, though, he did not look so very comical.

"Kitty!" a nursemaid shrieked as she ran past Emily, that flirtation with the footman forgotten. "Oh, is she hurt? Is she?"

The duke spat out a mouthful of water, wading towards sh.o.r.e. "I don't think so, miss," he said. "Though she is making a deuced lot of noise."

He slowly climbed up the embankment, the child clinging to his neck as she chortled with sheer joy. His fine clothes were utterly ruined, but he didn't seem to notice. He carefully handed the girl to her nurse.

"Keep a closer eye on her, yes?" he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"Oh, yes, sir! Of course," the maid cried. "Thank you so much, how can I thank you? I turned my back for one moment and-"

"One moment is all it takes, I fear," he said. He sat down heavily on the gra.s.s, his head in his hands as the maid carried the child away and the crowd slowly dispersed as the drama seemed over. "One moment and they're gone."

"Oh, your Grace," Emily said. She knelt beside him, only to find she trembled violently. How close that poor child had come to disaster! If not for him, the duke... "Are you hurt at all?"

He shook his head, and he trembled, too. "Of course not, Lady Emily. I've been dunked in far worse." He slowly lowered his hands, and she saw that his face was a bit pale, but completely expressionless. He took off his boots, one after the other, and emptied out the water. He removed his coat and wrung out the sleeves.